


A Brief Reprieve

by reanigaytor



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bad Cooking, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Ficlet, Gen, No Plot/Plotless, Very Slight Spoilers, edelgard does not know how to bake, hubert lowkey wins masterchef fodlan TBH, impromptu electric mixer disaster, this is literally just two dorks having a Soft Break Moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22121479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reanigaytor/pseuds/reanigaytor
Summary: In which Edelgard is rather hopeless at cooking, Hubert is reserving judgement like a good friend should, and the author does not have an explanation for why electric mixers exist in this one.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	A Brief Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

> welp, this is my first time posting fic lol
> 
> also, to answer a few questions:  
> 1\. yes, this is purely self-indulgent  
> 2\. no, I haven't finished black eagles (I'm so sorry if any of this is OOC, btw, I tried to piece together what I could)  
> 3\. no, I still cannot explain how electric mixers exist, just go with the flow
> 
> with all that said, do enjoy

Let it be stated for the record that the Adrestian Emperor did not fail to impress. 

Let it be stated as well that this entailed a near-boundless aptitude in all things. An emperor did not simply employ service out of necessity – for an emperor was skilled and didn’t lean on their servants – but from a place of _earning_ and _duty_. An emperor maintained a dignified front, perfect and pristine, powerful and poised. This being said, however, expectations tend to differ from reality, and it turns out that an upbringing of having your every domestic need tended to whilst predominantly being educated in the art of battle leaves you with a few gaps in knowledge of otherwise fairly mundane activities.

So it was really no wonder, then, that Edelgard von Hresvelg was a hopeless novice at any form of cooking. Hubert tried to let this line of reasoning console him as he gently guided an uncertain emperor’s hand towards the self-propelling mixer’s handle.

“Next, Lady Edelgard, we’re going to add the remaining dry ingredients and mix everything into a smooth batter.”

“ _Ah.”_ said Edelgard, uncharacteristically apprehensive but still mustering some confidence into her voice. It was rare to see her out of her depth like this, and Hubert himself had hardly been expecting the request to help her bake a cake in the first place, but even in this task her determined nature remained. It was nice to see her simply _enjoying_ herself, temporarily leaving the seemingly endless, bitter war they fought out of this room they shared, the burdened weight of the Adrestian crown that drew the sometimes judging, sometimes desperate gaze of all its subjects. The Garreg Mach monastery kitchen, for today, would be empty of bloodshed and expectations. “Right you are, Hubert.”

So far things had gone… _well._ To be fair, they had barely begun, but Hubert still counted this as a success. Baking was not necessarily his specialty when it came to cooking, but he knew enough to carry them both through the process properly. They had managed to weigh the ingredients – flour, eggs, butter, sugar, cocoa powder, usual cake-making fare – and after a quick show from Hubert of mixing the eggs and sugar into a thin liquid, it was time to gradually add in the rest.

_Gradually_ was supposed to have been the key word here.

Hubert had turned to clean the kitchen surface of unnecessary clutter, moving the bowls that once held measured ingredients of all sorts into the sink for cleaning-up later. Whilst he worked, he continued to advise from the opposite side of the room; “Prior to turning on the mixer, the ingredients need to be stirred slightly–” he paused to allow the last of the errant bowls to clatter into place, pacing back to Edelgard, settling at her side “–to help prevent lumps forming and so as to not–”

It happened quite suddenly. He felt a great white plume of what must have been flour smack against his face, saw a clump of unsalted butter fly across the room, splattering impressively on the back of a hanging saucepan. The mixer, which had somehow managed to sound _intimidating_ whilst it was whirring seemingly as fast as it could go, ended up jerkily tamed and tossed onto the now-obliterated kitchen surface as if it were a rabid cat.

Said mixer-tosser was holding one gloved hand up to her mouth, putting a grandiose amount of effort into not coughing while the other hand swiped viciously at the powdery fog surrounding her. Hubert inhaled heavily, too shocked to register the fact that this was not a very good idea when the air he breathed was mostly flour.

“...so as to not end up creating a mess, my lady.” Hubert finished gently.

Edelgard looked to Hubert with a minutely strained expression. Yet she didn't look particularly stressed in that moment either, he noted with odd relief. Instead of any dire calamity – perhaps _despite_ any dire calamity, seeing the state of the kitchen – there was a felt, serene pause between them, just for that moment, before the Adrestian emperor, perfect and pristine, now covered from head to foot in flour and goddess knows what else, coughed once for none else to see.

Let it also be stated for the record, Hubert would insist, that the Adrestian emperor never failed to surprise.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @deliuhapancake  
> big thank


End file.
